


Merlin - A Time Reversal

by Silur



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Knows About Morgana's Magic (Merlin), F/M, From the very beginning, M/M, Slow Burn, gonna tell the story again, mature Arthur meeting naive Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24322516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silur/pseuds/Silur
Summary: Arthur closed his eyes and knew that his kingdom was safe.He knew that he could go without any grievances.What he didn't know was, what he would do, if he was ever to return.What differences could he make, if Time was reversed?Maybe... Maybe some things wouldn't end like they had. Maybe he wanted some things to stay. Somebody to stay...“Hey.”He turned around.“Come on, it's enough.”“What?”“You've had your fun my friend.”
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 95





	1. Prolog - Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time trying to write a fanfic.  
> It's my first time trying to write in english.  
> And I really had fun, therefore I hope that others will have fun too, while reading my fic ^^
> 
> So, let's go and enjoy ouselves with a little gaze into the past of our beloved Merlin series. ❤️

He ... What was it that he remembered?

A wide world. A kingdom in all its glory. Love at his side. War behind his back.

He wanted to laugh.

He wanted to cry.

He finally felt free.

Here in this place, everything was quiet. Warmth surrounded him and permeated his weary being. He had fought a long time. King Arthur Pendragon had fought for a long time. Now it was time to rest.

He was resting.

He didn't move. Curled up on the deep bottom of the unknown. He didn't suffocate, didn't need air. He doesn't need anything except the rest, the sleep that was promised to him.

He left everything else, everything worldly behind him. Maybe he had even pushed it away.

He had enough.

Enough of all the burden that had been on him. Life had left deep marks on his soul, branded him and now he had fled from life. Like a child who used their mother's lap to cry.

There was another voice somewhere that appealed to him, telling him that it wasn't over yet. He would have to face up to his tasks.

He was the king and should not escape his duty.

Was it his father's voice? Possibly. Or his own?

After all, he was the one who finally recognized himself as king, who pasted this obligation onto himself.

Fate.

Yes, that was the word.

And now he could escape from it. He would care again when the time came and it would surely happen.

That knowledge was rooted deep inside him.

It was like a prophecy he knew instinctively. So, he kept on waiting.

The time – who had no meaning in here – was his companion. She didn't apply to him, but to everything else around him. She moved everything and started making preparations.

Long ribbons encircled him. The ribbons had no colour and flowed like rivers around him. He hardly noticed the change at first because he never opened his eyes. After all, he didn't need his sight. There was nothing to see here, nothing to upset or disturb him.

His resting place.

Time expanded the ribbons layer by layer until the soul of the resting man was wrapped in a cocoon of ribbons. Then time wrapped herself around the long stripes, nestled against the cocoon and disappeared.

Shortly after he opened his eyes because he had heard something.

Nothing had gotten through to him until now. There was silence and he enjoyed the silence. But now, something was moving. The soul, which had remained untouched for so long, found what it was longing for.

_“Everything you’ve done… I know now… For me, for Camelot… For the kingdom you’ve helped me build.”_

His eyes saw himself.

His dying self.

It was a memory that passed by him.

The ribbons became faster, flowed faster and the picture became blurred, taking his last words with him. He looked almost wistfully at the flowing stripes.

They soon slowed down again and the blurred mass formed contours, silhouettes that slid over the surface like ghosts. He saw their movements and waited until he could look back at his memories.

_„Hey.“_

It seemed as if the young black-haired man was talking to him directly.

_“Come on, it's enough.”_

_“What?”_ He could hear his own voice answering. It sounded disbelieving, a bit annoyed and most certainly arrogant.

_“You've had your fun my friend.”_

Yes, he remembered. That was how it had begun. Fate unfolding. He had been ignorant and naive, and so had his loyal servant.

‘Better times.’ He thought by himself and smiled faintly. Maybe it would have been possible to change things, back then. If he hadn’t been such an ignorant man. If he would have shown gratefulness at least once. If Merlin had told him that he... No, it was good as it had been. Those times were long gone, even if the ribbons wanted him to believe otherwise.

‘Let me see Guinevere for one last time.’

The soul wished for it deeply. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to her, see her before he died and those ribbons seemed to be friendly. Maybe they would listen to his wish.

_“Be my guest! Come on!”_ Again, his own voice surrounded him. Arrogant, taunting and full with pride he possessed as the prince of Camelot. The son of Uther Pendragon. A mere peasant, additionally unknown to him, had talked back. Unacceptable! At least that was what he probably had thought. Now he knew better, much better.

Not that this knowledge would change anything about the following things he had done. The only thing this resting soul could do was watch, as his younger self did what an arrogant prince would do.

‚So, she saw it.‘ he realized as he watched on. The ribbons had listened to his wish and now she appeared in his memories. Maybe he had seen her standing behind the castle windows but hadn’t cared about it.

His love, the most caring and beautiful person he had ever met. He wondered how she could have fallen in love with an idiot like him. How was she able to understand him so well? How was she faring now, without him by her side?

Well, probably, hopefully. He missed her so much. He wanted to embrace her, at least one last time.

With that in mind, he reached out for the moving pictures, for his memories and wanted to touch her beautiful outline. Maybe hoping to relive the touch to her soft skin.

‘Are you taking good care of our Camelot?’ He asked her silently, although she could never answer him. Instead it seemed as if something else wanted to answer him.

The images on the ribbons blurred, the colours reared and wrapped around his finger that had touched Guinevere's face. He wanted to flinch away from the strange cold and wet sensation that surrounded his fingertip. Unfortunately, the colours held him and pulled on him.

He opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but nothing left his throat. It was as quiet as ever, while the colours soaked him up and swallowed more and more of him.

First only his index finger, then the rest of them one by one. His wrist, arm and shoulder followed. Still, he wasn’t afraid. The urge to escape the uncomfortable feeling was there, but he wasn't afraid of it.

His instinct even made him speed up the process by leaning forward.

Quickly the colours devoured his whole being. His soul disappeared into the ribbons.

The cocoon of time dissolved like honey in warm milk. All that was left was the vast universe and the stars of an infinitely wide sky.


	2. 1. The Call of Time [The Dragon's Call]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny. He cannot glimpse his part in the great story, that is about to unfold.  
> Like everyone, he must live and learn. And so it will be, for the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot. A boy, that will in time, father a legend. His name…
> 
> Merlin.”
> 
> \- Kilgharrah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy to release the first rewritten episode of Merlin.
> 
> It needed much more time than I originally thought, especially because of Eid.
> 
> Me and my family went to eat out, it was very yummy. 👌
> 
> I hope that you all had a good weekend and begin of the new week.
> 
> If not, then maybe you will feel better while reading this piece. It would be my pleasure to make you laugh and feel a little bit of melancholy as we reminisce about how Arthur and Merlin first met.
> 
> Even though Arthur isn't that big of an asshole haha ✨

“It is said that every life comes to an end when Time has come. Time is running out and soon everything will pass on because of her hand.

But, my little prince, my great king, even the hand of Time is gentle. Time also wants an end to her history. An end that will never come.

Instead, I send him on his cruel path anew.

He will be my messenger, embody my eyes and ears. The legend will be rewritten and this time you will have the chance called 'knowledge'.

My name is Time. And you

my little prince,

my great king,

what will you be called?”

\- Time

The voice echoed through his mind for a long time. At least it felt long. The gruesome pounding behind his temple made it difficult for him to assess the time that had already passed. The sudden light spreading out before his eyes wasn’t really helpful either.

It was very bright and – despite the brightness – not as comfortably warm as the place where he had previously rested. He wondered weakly what exactly had happened, but the longer he thought about it, the less he could remember.

In the end the only thing left was the waning feeling of warmth and security, then a lot of noises suddenly attacked his eardrums.

A cacophony of voices mixed themselves with loud rattling. Somebody chopped wood somewhere, a goat bleated and a roaster couldn’t hold in a high crow. Those were noises he knew far too well since he had heard them nearly every day in his past.

The smell of moist straw and hay mixed with a somewhat stronger smell of smoke rose and permeated the air. His nostrils flared slightly. He knew those too. It was worrisome and he had to swallow a little harder.

The female voice that had spread through his mind a short time ago echoed again.

“Go, follow your fate.

I am counting on you, my young prince.”

“Look, I’ve told you, you’re an ass. I just didn’t realize you were a royal one.”

The first sentence that greeted him. Great, really wonderful. The anger in Arthur immediately stirred and an annoyed snort left his mouth. If he hadn't recognized the voice immediately, he would have thrown that guy into the dungeon for defaming his king.

“Oh, pfff, what is it you’re going to do? You’ll get your daddy’s men to protect you?”

The black-haired young man in front of him was still as cheeky as he remembered him. Arthur was relieved and wanted to give him a friendly pat on the back.

However… a hard blow to the back of that idiotic head would also be appropriate now, after Merlin had made such a stupid misstep. No matter how much Arthur missed Merlin’s big mouth, to joke about his father wasn’t something he would dismiss as easily.

Nonetheless Arthur laughed boisterously, then switched to a slightly more serious tone and said, “I could take you apart with one blow.”

Merlin promptly replied, “I could take you apart with less than that.”

Yes, that was probably true. With a lot less movements. One word would surely be enough for Merlin to cast a spell that tore Arthur to pieces. He'd seen it himself on the Camlann battlefield. The lightning bolts that Merlin had cast spoke volumes and Arthur couldn't help but feel a little awe. Still, he held more respect in his heart for this sorcerer than he ever had for his father.

Not that he would ever admit that.

“You sure?” So, he answered half-jokingly, but didn't expect Merlin to get rid of his loose brown jacket straight away. The young man in front of him was now ready to fight.

Arthur asked himself briefly, 'Has he always been like this?' but could answer his own question relatively quickly, 'Yes, he was always like this… Ready to fight…'

Suddenly sarcastic 'Woah!' sounds could be heard behind him. Surprised by this, Arthur turned and glanced coldly at the knights who seemed to be accompanying him. They immediately fell silent and quickly handed him a black steel morning star. One of the men mouthed a 'Sorry sire.' Before taking a step back.

Very good. Nobody was allowed to harm this young man. Neither physically nor mentally. He didn't deserve that. Basically, Merlin deserved to be celebrated. Thanks to him, they had won the battle, thanks to him Arthur's men had not fallen victim to the dragon or Morgana, thanks to him Gwen was safe and sound.

The kings heart held onto so much. Events and feelings which he wanted to talk about, to lay bare his soul to his friend and loyal companion. Even if he thought he had said everything on the verge of his death.

Only now did he realize that this wasn’t the case. That so much hadn't been said. He felt his eyes start to burn slightly. In order not to show the emotions swirling up inside him, the blond threw the morning star towards Merlin, more carefully than he usually did. After all, Merlin was just a great wizard, not a great weapon user.

When he saw that the boy had caught the morning star safely, he released a satisfied “Hmmm” and nodded before saying, “For your safety my friend.”

He didn’t miss the surprised expression on Merlin's face. It led to a wide grin on Arthurs. Then his grin turned into a more serious expression, an expression that he only wore when he focused on a fight that he was sure to enjoy.

“Come on then.” The blond said softly whilst starting to swing the morning star chain over his head.

He could punish Merlin at least a little bit… right?

Since he would never hurt one of his own voluntarily.

His opponent seemed to see that a little different though.

“Hey, I’ve been trained to do this since birth. I know what I’m doing.” Arthur said, to lift the mood a little. The next comment however tore at his nerves again.

“Woooah…” Merlin started and pretended to be overwhelmed “That’s how long you’ve been training to be a prat?

Now Arthur released a slightly pissed and sad laugh.

“You can’t address me like that.”

It finally hurt him. Even though Arthur had often not treated Merlin well, he was still close to his heart. They were friends, cronies who could rely on each other. Why was Merlin so hateful? Even if they had been joking in the past, it had all been fairly harmless. Things you knew the other wouldn’t take seriously.

This, right here… That was pure resentment

“Sorry…” Merlin snorted and Arthur wanted to show him a benevolent smile. ‘Forgive and forget, idiot.’, he had wanted to say but in the next moment his cheerfulness died down again.

“How long you’ve been training to be a prat…milord.”

Arthur cleared his throat in disbelief before venting his anger - which he had suppressed several times now – at least a little bit. He took a swing and let the morning star snap towards Merlin. The sorcerer swiftly dodged, ducked and took a few steps back.

If the black-haired youth wanted to, he could still get an advantage with magic. So, Arthur did not hesitate and walked quickly towards his opponent, reducing the distance between them while skilfully handling the morning star.

“Come on then, Merlin!”

Anger could still be heard in the king's voice, but Arthur tried to cover it up with a teasing tone. He knew something was wrong here. It almost looked like they were back at the beginning of their friendship. As if they were nothing more than a cheeky subject and arrogant prince for each other.

It was something Arthur didn't really want. But the facts spoke for it.

The skinny boy ran as fast as a hare across the small market, all while Arthur got on a borrow out of fun, and to have a better look at the alert warlock.

“Come on!”

The strained expression on Merlin's face was pure joy for Arthur and a grin formed again. Then a short laugh really did escape him as Merlin’s morning star got caught in a hanging basket. Straw trickled down on the wizard's head and he barley evaded Arthur's attack.

Yes, that was the Merlin he knew best. If his faithful manservant was good at something, it was to flee.

“Give it to him!” One of his knights shouted in that second. It was a joyful cry, a cheer for their king, yet Arthur gave the speaker an icy look.

So far, the men had remained reasonably calm, as had the other onlookers, but now one of them had blabbed away. He would be sorry for that.

Arthur made a mental note to 'give him a helping hand' during the next training session.

'But first to you.'

His eyes wandered back to his opponent, who had now saved himself behind a vegetable and fruit stand.

“Aha.” Teased Arthur, before supporting himself with his left arm and simply jumping over the stand's surface. As soon as he got over there, Merlin had already headed for a small wooden warehouse. The black-haired youth stumbled and fell on some sacks full of grain.

“Haha, you’re in trouble now.”

Arthur's eyebrows rose. His heart was pounding a little harder in his chest. He was excited and one could definitely see the joy he gained from this little hunt.

“Oh God.” Gasped the one lying on the ground while seemingly looking around. In this moment it happened. Arthur could feel it, the warming energy coming from Merlin. It was like a breeze that gently enveloped him, like a mother's embrace. Or at least how he would imagine a mother's embrace.

The feeling was familiar. As if he had already indulged in this feeling once before.

“Time has the same origin as Magic.”

The soft voice was washed out of Arthur's mind by a loud metallic sound. His morning star had caught onto two sickles. Arthur clicked his tongue and pulled the corner of his mouth up.

“Youuu…” the blond growled before he could free his morning star. While doing so, he ignored the calls of the citizens who had positioned themselves at the entrance to the wooden warehouse to get a better view of what was going on. He could understand it a little. After all, you didn't see your king fight like this every day

“What’s with meee?”

Perky as he was, Merlin gave an answer nobody had asked for and took cover again. Arthur could see the wizard's eyes twitching, looking for something that could help in this fight.

“Your little tricks won’t work for me.”

“What tricks?”

The heat flared up a second time, cuddled a little with Arthur before it vanished and he faintly heard a rough scratch. He immediately stopped in his step and looked down for a second.

“Really Merlin, a box?” He asked, seeing Merlin’s pupils suddenly enlarge. Was it fear he could detect in those bright eyes?

Why?

Unintentionally he stepped over the wooden box and came a little closer to Merlin, who this time took cover behind a table with eggs.

“Why do you-“

Arthur lost his balance a second later. The warmth that came from the spell couldn't help the uncomfortable pressure his armour and metal bracer put on his body. At least he had fallen on a soft, filled sack and not on the rough floor.

The king straightened up quickly, backing up slightly as he heard the sound of the chain from the weapon, he gave to the wizard approaching.

“Do you want to give up!”

The young man's voice almost overturned and Arthur raised his arms, just about to calm Merlin down when his foot lost its grip and he fell backwards onto the grain sacks on which the black-haired boy had been lying just a few minutes ago. At the same moment a victorious smile returned to the boy's face and he let his eyes slide away from Arthur.

The blond could see his friend looking around, examining the pleased and attentive looks of the people. The king felt like he was watching a little boy win the fight against the village thug for the first time.

Then… He was the thug?

A little offended, he grimaced, straightened up, and hit Merlin hard on the back. The wizard stumbled forward, released a painful groan and fell directly into the arms of two knights. They were Arthur's companions from before.

They got ready to arrest the troublemaker, but that was not what the blond had intended for Merlin.

“Wait! Let him go.” So, he said and came up to the lanky young man. “He may be an idiot, but he’s a brave one.”

Arthur was serious. Merlin was the bravest man he knew. The most loyal friend he had. Basically, only one thing was missing, but this place would belong to Gwen forever.

Arthur smiled and gently placed his leather-covered hand on Merlin's shoulder.

“Be careful to not go too far with your tricks. The best thing you can do now is to go to Gaius and get checked up. I think he's already waiting for you.”

The blond looked towards the old court physician, who stood between all the onlookers before he left Merlin and gave Gaius a short nod.

His knights followed him automatically and together they left the scene behind.

* * *

In a trot he ran back the thatched path he had come with his men. He crouched briefly and picked up Merlin's jacket, which was still lying lonely on the dirty floor. A quick puff of satisfaction escaped Arthur's nose before throwing the jacket behind him, sure that one of his men would catch it.

“Take it to Merlin.” The king ordered, slowing down in his pace and finally stopping in the middle of the path. He crossed his arms and started to think before speaking again. “Send Leon and Gwain to the throne room. I have to talk to them.”

Maybe those two knew what had happened. Why everything seemed so calm. Why Arthur could remember the final battle, but nothing afterwards, and why Merlin behaved so strangely.

‘I really believed I was dead.’

“Sire?”

“Hmm?”

The blond raised his head and turned to the knights behind him. One of the people dressed in leather was holding Merlin's jacket. Now Arthur noticed that the faces of the two were unknown to him. They also didn't look like knights; he'd just mistakenly thought they were, without even looking right at them. The only knights that were following him were the two guards, standing behind the two men.

The one who held Merlin's jacket opened his mouth again.

“Sire, Sir Leon isn't in the castle right now. Your father assigned him to ride to Deyfed and…”

‘My father?’ The king thought incredulously. His crossed arms tensed, as did his jaw. Who dared to mention his father before him? His father hadn't walked among the living for a long time. This jerk must have been aware of that!

Arthur took a deep breath without removing his cold blue eyes from the one who was speaking.

“Proceed.”

The man who had leaned his upper body slightly forward to indicate a bow now looked straight back at Arthur. Fear clearly showing in his bleary eyes. He swallowed again before answering.

“Who is Gwain?”

Arthur laughed at first and wanted to pat the man on the shoulder because he had made such a good joke, but as he stretched out his hand, he noticed the incredulous looks of the other three. Even the two guards looked at him in surprise.

“Hey, you're joking, aren’t you?” He asked, slightly irritated, but still with a laugh in his voice.

“Sire, we don't know any Gwain. If you tell us where we can find him, we will be happy to do so, but without any clues…”

His men looked perplexed, perplexed and confused by their king. Or maybe he wasn't their king at all? They had been talking about his father earlier… Arthur sucked in air and jerked his head towards the castle, which rose in the background. His eyes burned again.

Was it really possible?

“No, no, everything’s fine. Just take care of the jacket. I'll pay my father a short visit.” Said the blond. His voice trembled slightly.

* * *

“The sun was already hanging low and cast its orange-red rays across the sky. She enveloped everyone in her warm glow and obscured the misfortune that would rise over Camelot.

Meanwhile a young blond man was standing in front of the thick wooden doors that led to the royal dining room.”

Arthur shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the low but echoing female voice in his head. At first everyone around him seemed crazy and now he was going crazy himself. Fantastic!

‘But wasn’t that already clear after I ran like a headless beast?’ The blond reprimanded himself. Now, he was standing in front of the dining room, as the voice had said. The only ones allowed to dine here where the royal family and important guests. Thanks to a maid, he found out that his father was planning to have dinner here with Lady Helen.

He really hoped these weren't just illusions, created by his own mind. That he might be able to see his father alive again, even if he was afraid of it.

At that second, he heard footsteps. The steps grew louder, they came closer and as a voice reached him, he couldn’t help but open his lips slightly. Complex emotions twirled in his heart.

This was it. This was the voice that had always rebuked him. The voice that had been his greatest moral authority and at the same time the one from his most terrible nightmares.

“Arthur!”

His father.

“Father.”

He couldn’t believe it. The king himself stood before him. The king who should already be dead.

“Just like you. And yet, you stand here.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes briefly to concentrate on the words his father uttered to him.

“Did you want to greet Lady Helen after all?” Was all Arthur understood in the end. The former king blinked twice in astonishment, but then shook his head gently. He hid his slightly trembling hands behind his back.

“No, father. I came to speak to you. But since you seem to be busy right now, I am withdrawing.”

He smiled, then looked at the woman who was standing slightly behind his father and indicated a bow.

“Lady Helen.”

She also curtseyed, but then suddenly said, “Prince Arthur.”

The voice made him wince and an ice-cold shiver worked his way up his spine. He felt uneasy and briefly had the impression of remembering something.

“I am pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Arthur closed his eyes as he smiled and tried to reach out for the memory, but it blurred, almost as if it were just a dream that could not be grasped.

“Will you also attend my performance tomorrow?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow questioningly and looked at his father, who was – more or less – punishing him with a stern look. The blond then lowered his head and nodded.

“Of course, Lady Helen. Who would dare to miss it?” He replied politely. She laughed lightly before reaching for her purplish red dress and turning to the king.

“Let us go then?”

It remained silent, which was unusual, at least for Arthur's father. The blonde looked back at the older man, who was also looking at him. His father's eyes were hard to read, but at that moment Arthur felt that he could see disbelief in the light green irises. After their eyes met, Uther turned away.

“As you wish.”

A benevolent smile showed on the hardened face and Uther led the singer into the dining room. Left his son alone in the hall.

Alone with his thoughts and memories.

'It's not possible at all… Not even through magic.' But what did he know about magic?

Arthur took one last look at the dining room door before turning and heading towards his room. Or at least he tried to follow his memories, which seemed to have some gaps.

On the way, the prince delved into his thoughts to find the answer to this riddle.

Many questions swirled around in his head that could not be answered easily. It was one mess of information that he had to put together.

There was Merlin's behaviour, the absence of Gwain and Leon, as well as the other knights of the Round Table, who were probably completely missing. In addition, he had seen his father being as well as ever and equally oppressive as before.

Lady Helen had called him prince. That was basically the most important hint.

Time had turned back. Or was he the one who travelled back in Time?

Or… All of this was happening in a long and lonely dream of a dead man, because Arthur had certainly died. He was now convinced of that – and not just because of the strange voice that had whispered to him.

King Arthur Pendragon had found his end. Long ago.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed his thumb between his eyebrows.

If he assumed that he really was back in the past, then… When was this exactly?

Even if this was a dream, he did not want to relive all the betrayal, suffering and pain in it. Maybe he could change something about the way things were going?

If he wanted to do that, he had to find out what date-

“Aah!”

A high cry followed. Something banged against Arthur's arm and immediately fell onto his feet. It didn't hurt because it seemed relatively light and only touched the tip of his shoe. At the same time, he saw in the corner of his eye how a load of laundry was spread out on the floor to his left.

“I’m sorry.”

“Pardon!”

Their voices mingled and the blond man swallowed hard. Guinevere got down on her knees in front of him. She immediately started to collect the laundry and hastily threw it into the big wicker basket.

He quickly followed suit and helped.

“No, milord, you don't have to.” She said in her soft and slightly surprised voice. Arthur released an equally gentle laugh and looked at her briefly.

“I helped making your work harder than it already is. Of course, I have to take responsibility.”

Guinevere's hands stopped at that. She didn't seem to believe him. He could understand her sentiment. As far as he remembered, his former arrogance was undefeated. So, he kept his smile and continued to help. Gwen quickly turned to the laundry again, not without shrugging her head once at his strange behaviour. It was a tick she had that Arthur had always thought was very cute.

If only she knew how much his heart was pounding in this moment.

“Thank you, milord.” Gwen said, briefly curtseying and turned. Apparently, she wanted to continue her work, but Arthur stopped her again. On the one hand, to stay close to her for a little longer – if he could no longer embrace her – on the other hand, to find an answer to one of the many questions in his head.

“Gwe… Guinevere, right?”

“Yes… milord?”

She tilted her head slightly and exposed her delicate neck, with the sweet brown locks curling around it softly. He swallowed and tried to keep eye contact.

“Would you be kind enough to tell me what day it is today?”

His queen's doe eyes got an amused glimmer before she answered him with a well-behaved smile, “It's Friday milord.”

“Ah, no, I meant… Ehem…”

Oh yes, he had completely forgotten why Merlin and his queen got on so well. Both of them had a tendency to joke, though Gwen was less obvious with it.

“Did I say something wrong?” The young woman asked innocently.

“No, no, you didn't say anything wrong. I thank you Guinevere. You can… go on in doing your tasks. Sorry for holding you up.”

The maid shook her head, bowed briefly before she turned with momentum. Gwen wished him a pleasant evening and left Arthur with a fluttery feeling in his stomach and heart.

How could he win back her love? Now that she had almost no sympathy for him.

'I can still think about that tomorrow.'

Because now he had Time. All he had to do was worry about what had happened to him in the past. Of course, it would hurt to remember, but for the sake of a better future he would take everything on.

* * *

“The unknown voice was deep, deep and demanding.

It called for the young warlock, but reached another’s ears too.

A prince who had always taken fate into his own hands.”

“Urgh…” Groaned Arthur, rolling in his wide bed.

'If it would be just one voice…!' He complained mentally and tried to snuggle up into the blanket to get rid of the damp cold that was surrounding his body with every booming call.

At least he had had a brief feeling of warmth between the first and second time the voice penetrated his head.

_“Merlin.”_

There it sounded again. A third time, smoky and demanding, basically exactly as the other voice in his head had said.

Would it stay that way forever? Voices in his head that talked whenever they liked?

“You should follow that voice, my prince.”

And again, the first voice called out to him and covered the call for 'Merlin'. Why did Arthur even hear this call when it was meant for the sorcerer?

Couldn't they just let him sleep in peace so he would have the tiny chance of waking with a clear head tomorrow?

“You’re interested, aren’t you?”

“What?” Arthur whispered to the voice. It was really more than annoying. Especially when he just wanted to have a good night’s rest.

“You are interested in why Merlin is being called… To whom he must answer at this time of night.”

“Hmpf!”

He turned again and, frustrated, knocked the blanket off before touching his temple and applying pressure with his palm.

“Will you leave me alone when I go?”

“It will be worth it.”

She replied to him instead. Arthur could only snort contemptuously before getting out of bed. He pulled on his pants, grabbed a white linen shirt that was nearby before slipping on his shoes and leaving his room with a coat under his arm.

He had actually wanted to take up a sword, but then prevented himself from doing so, because he did not consider it necessary.

“Go down into the dungeons and follow the voice.”

‘Your voice?’ The prince asked jokingly but got a rather serious answer.

“No, that of Kilgharrah.”

‘Can’t joke with you, huh?’ He sighed deeply.

Whoever Kilgharrah was, the second voice that kept asking for Merlin belonged probably to them. Arthur was beginning to wonder which great ‘voice’ was still above the 'greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth’.

Who could ask for Merlin like this except him, the King of Camelot?

‘No, I am not the king anymore. Not yet at least.’

It didn't take long to sneak through the empty hallways of the castle, lit by the moonlight. Barely 5 minutes later Arthur stood before the door that led down to the anteroom of the dungeons. Interestingly the wooden door was wide open.

'He definitely went down there.' Mused the former king and began to grin slightly.

Since Merlin was relatively bad at hiding – if he didn’t use his magic for it apparently – Arthur wasn’t surprised that his former manservant had left the door open. Just as he was about to take the first step onto the stairs, he saw a figure standing in the middle of them. Faintly lit by the dim orange light of the flickering torches.

It was the sorcerer, whom he had followed for good or bad.

Arthur immediately withdrew and could feel Merlin's magic flaring up at the same moment. As softly, as it had while they fought on the marketplace.

The clatter of cubes on wood changed to a clatter on stone. Arthur understood relatively quickly that Merlin had used these cubes for distraction. He had to suppress an incredulous sound.

How many times had his faithful friend used his magic like this? Even in the past…

The blond came up with a few ideas, but couldn’t think long about it because he heard the black-haired boy move on.

Arthur quietly started chasing again, abruptly needing to stop on the bottom step.

_“Merlin.”_

The voice led to another unwelcome shudder he couldn’t control. While his body was still trembling slightly, Arthur grabbed a torch as well.

Now there was only one left. Would it be noticed? Tired soldiers who didn't expect intruders in the middle of the night certainly wouldn’t.

He paused for a moment at the small table where the dungeon guards had been sitting and listened to see if Merlin had left the first stairs in the semi-dark vault.

Arthur just hoped the guards wouldn't come back too soon.

_“Merlin.”_

‘Damn, enough now! He's already on his way…’ Arthur swore silently.

That voice was really killing him, mentally and physically. Why was that?

Another question that he probably would not be able to answer.

“Real strange how the dice just rolled away… As if-”

“Maaagiiiic…”

The jesting guards' voices sounded and Arthur sputtered, running down the stairs to the dungeon as quick and quiet as possible.

He kept the current distance and continued to follow the young man.

Merlin led Arthur through a few twists and turns until the dungeon's flat walls turned into uneven rock and became more and more like a cave. They seemed to enter the deepest part of it.

‘Where will the voice lead you, Merlin?’

When the corridors became too narrow to hide the glow of a second torch, the blond decided to put his own out, risking a few minor bruises here and there. Of course, he kept the torch with him to later put it back to where it belonged. Besides, it would be very strange to suddenly find a second torch lying on the ground of a forgotten cave.

Even Merlin would realize that he had been followed.

**_“Merlin.”_ **

‘Darnnn-’

Arthur barely prevented himself from kneeling on the spot because the voice overwhelmed him so damn much. He pressed his fist against the rough stone wall and suppressed a frustrated cry.

Now at least Merlin's steps were finally slowing down and an old and jovial laugh permeated the cave.

'Have we finally arrived?'

“Yes.”

At least his ‘own voice’ had answered him.

He then slid to the floor and leaned against the wall, listening to the words of his friend, who asked a question that was also of interest to Arthur.

“Where are you?”

Then fluttering of mighty wings echoed through the cave and not even a second later Arthur could hear rock crumble, as well as a voice that seemed mysterious but no longer frightening. His body also stopped responding to the oppressing tone.

What was the difference between them, if it was the same voice?

“I’m here.”

A short silence followed the pompous words. The only sounds that indicated that something was moving, was another wave of falling stones and some grinding sounds, until Kilgharrah spoke again – if Arthur remembered the name correctly.

“How small you are, for such a great destiny.”

“Why, what do you mean? What destiny?”

‘Ah, that’s how he learned about it.’

Arthur closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head against the cool cave wall. Somehow, he wished Merlin would be spared from this unkind fate.

After all he didn’t know what his friend had to go through while all those years had passed without receiving any kind of gratefulness. It must have been a feeling of misery more often than not. Arthur just couldn’t imagine how Merlin accomplished this grand duty.

To hide his magic from everyone – otherwise he would be killed. To help the arrogant prince over and over again, to sacrifice himself completely… To give up his own freedom.

Only a man of greatness could do that.

But now…

“Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason.”

“So there is a reason!”

The dragon agreed with the young wizard before continuing.

“Arthur is the once and future King, who’ll unite the land of Albion.”

Arthur almost laughed out loud.

Those were big words Kilgharrah uttered, but were they really true? Did he manage to unite the country? Or had he only contributed to dividing his own family? Only ever fending off dark forces, sorcery and the wrath of his family. Even his father had come back, disagreeing with Arthurs way of ruling over Camelot and the few lands he had united.

In the end, he hadn't been able to unite all of Albion, even if it had been his father's wish, even if it had been his own wish…

“Right…?”

Merlin's voice was hesitant, sceptical, just as sceptical as Arthur was over his own achieving’s right now.

“But he faces many threats, from friend and foe alike.”

There Kilgharrah said something grandiose… friend and foe ... probably more like ‘just friends’.

When Arthur looked back, he could only see how he had always had to fight confidants.

Family, friends, allies. Whenever the enemies were ready to invade and started their conquest of Camelot, it was mostly friends who instigated them. That was the hard truth.

“I don’t see, what this has to do with me.”

“Everything! Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you there will be no Albion.”

So that's how it was. He needed Merlin. He wasn’t the sole king of Camelot, of Albion. Arthur reached out for the soft fabric of his coat and enclosed it tightly. He had to let out his pent-up feelings somewhere.

“No, no, you’ve got this wrong!”

‘Don't worry Merlin. I won't drag you into the things I should’ve solved again. I will make sure that none of this ever happens a second time.’

“There is no right or wrong. Only what is and what isn’t.”

“As well as what has once been.”

Arthur drooped his head and put his arms over his knees. He was relatively relived that nobody could see him at this moment. Sitting on the cold and slightly wet ground of an unknown cave, pressed up against the wall in a little indention, so that Merlin would not be able to see him. Covered with a dark blue coat and trembling slightly.

Not because of the cold but because of every word that was being said.

It felt a little bit like watching – more like hearing – a play. But this play was about him.

Him and his cursed glorious feats build up on the sacrifice of the freedom of another.

Arthurs hands stretched and clenched incessantly.

“Well I am serious!”

Merlin's voice echoed through the hallway, but then nothing followed. Actually, the eavesdropper had prepared to hear a clear and rebellious disagreement after the wizard had started like this, but nothing… Only Kilgharrah's laughter spread out.

After it died slowly down, Merlin spoke again.

“I think… I would help… If someone really wanted to… yeah, you know…”

The young voice sounded subdued, in contrast to the volume it had previously held.

Arthur was surprised by the sudden change of mood and could picture how Merlin fumbled with his hands to show Kilgharrah the motion of slitting someone’s throat. It elicited a deep laugh from Kilgharrah before he took over again.

“Your hesitation says more than a thousand words could ever do, Merlin.’

“But it’s true! It’s just… Today was…… Oh Damn! I’m not going to change my mind! If someone really does come, they can come up to me and I will be ready to help.”

Oh, maybe Arthur hadn't made such a bad impression after all? He hoped for it, they were friends after all. He would be unwilling to lose this long-term friendship.

How had Merlin managed to stay by his side with all the arrogant babble Arthur had put him through?

Probably in exactly the same way as Gwen. They just both had patience. They saw the good in him, even in his childish and princely ego trip.

The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched at the thought.

“None of us can choose our destiny Merlin. And none of us can escape it.”

If that was really true, Arthur wouldn’t be sitting here listening to his manservant talking to a stranger. However, it was still possible that all of this was just going on in his head and that even after his death, he was unable to find his peace.

“No, no way, no, no, there must be another Arthur because this one’s an idiot.”

“Perhaps it’s your Destiny to change that.”

Arthur's breathing stopped for a few seconds. These were words that basically described what Merlin was to him.

Change.

Merlin had changed him, influenced him to a large extent, and often enough successfully given advice that Arthur had followed more and more over time.

Even if he hadn’t listened to them an equally amount of times.

There were now clinking noises of a chain and the well-known wing flapping while Merlin tried to stop the dragon. Because that was what Kilgharrah was. A dragon.

He had to be a dragon, the dragon that his father had locked away 20 years ago.

Then Arthur had a bone chilling thought.

Was it maybe Merlin who had freed the dragon? Back when Camelot was attacked by this monstrous creature?

No, this couldn’t be. Merlin would never do that. Merlin was a sorcerer who had only good things in mind for Camelot.

Arthur shook his head and waited until the glow of Merlin’s torch was dimming, then he followed the dim light.

* * *

There was no voice to wake him up this time. She had kept her word and left him alone for the rest of the night.

Should he show gratitude for her benevolence? Arthur wondered, while the momentarily assigned manservant helped him get into his shirt.

Actually, he could do it quite well on his own. After all, Merlin hadn't always been there – unlike any normal manservant – and preferred to spend his time in the tavern.

“Hehe…” He laughed, only realizing that he did that a loud, after the one dressing him questioned in a slightly annoyed tone, “What's so funny, sire?”

Arthur cleared his throat and first didn’t know what to answer. On second thought he put his arms down – since his favourite red shirt was now fitting perfectly against his body – and pretended to be reminiscing about something important.

“Nothing. I just remembered something.”

And that was true. He did remember and he realized something rather interesting.

Had Merlin really been visiting the tavern all those times? Could it be that the boy had been busy somewhere else instead?

Busy with magic for example.

‘If only I could ask him.’

Arthur opened his eyes, which he had closed briefly, and looked straight down at his kneeling manservant. At this moment he was closing the belt the blond always wore.

Their eyes met and a brief awkward silence arose between them.

“What?” Asked Arthur, slightly irritated.

For some reason it was annoying to have to look down on this stranger. He couldn't remember that face, the voice or work of this young man.

However, the way he looked at Arthur – like Merlin had yesterday – showed that he probably hadn't treated him very respectfully.

“Sorry sire.” The kneeling one forced out, then stood up, grabbed the rest of the breakfast and disappeared from Arthur's sight with a quick bow.

‘Not at all amusing, this guy…’

Arthur shook his head and tried to imagine how Merlin would have reacted.

Another chuckle escaped his mouth before his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Gwen popped up in his head and he could faintly hear her say ‘Good morning my dear.’

The – now – prince answered silently and wished her a good morning too. Only then did he leave his room.

His first few steps on the bright floor at this beautiful morning where filled with busy noises here and there. He saw some servants and maids wandering around, doing their tasks readily.

It was something he dearly missed. To see all the busybodies wandering around the castle grounds. Without having to bear the fear of destruction through war and magic.

Arthur could sort of understand his father’s thoughts. Not as much as back then but nonetheless acceptance existed in his heart.

Magic was dangerous, very dangerous indeed… As were swords, arrows and other weapons. Even though no one banned them.

How everything was used – for good or for bad purposes – depended solely on the wielder.

At least that was, what he had learned the first time around.

‘Not that father would listen to me at the moment… Even sparing me a friendly glance would be asking for too much.’

While stating the truth in his head he went up some stairs and evaded a maid who was going down with leftover breakfast.

“Are those from Morgana? Is she awake right now?” He asked the light blond woman. She seemed surprised at first but answered.

“No, my lord. Those are from Lady Helen. But I assume that Lady Morgana is awake too, since I saw her maid coming out of her room shortly before.”

Lady Helen it was again.

Arthur was still not sure when it was, he came back to but whenever he thought about Lady Helen, he had the feeling of remembering something important.

Her name seemed to trigger something in him, something very uncomfortable, and he was sure that if he had a little more time, he would remember it.

But now his priority was to visit his little sister. She needed him more, or at least Arthur wished she would need him.

If he had cared more about her, hadn't taken her dreams lightly, had listened to her words… Then she would probably never have felt betrayed by her own family and wouldn’t have thrown herself in the arms of her ‘big sister’.

Basically, Morgana simply hadn't been able to turn to anyone.

“Thank you…”

“The fallen Angel.”

‘Fallen Angel?’ Arthur repeated und went on going upstairs.

“Remind her of being cautious around Lady Helens mirror. It is covered because of a significant purpose.”

Arthur stopped in his step.

He really didn’t know why the female voice in his head would say that but after yesterday he somehow trusted her?

So, the prince turned around, ran the stairs back down und stopped the young woman in another corridor of the castle.

“Is there something you need my lord?”

“I don’t but I wanted to tell you something regarding Lady Helen.”

The eyes of the maid lit up and he had the feeling she was surrounded by sparkles.

“Yes, anything. Is it really important? Just tell me, I will do anything for the great Lady Helen of Mora!”

Oh, it seemed as if this one in front of him was a… fan of Lady Helen. Arthurs brow twitched momentarily before he told her, what the voice wanted him to tell.

“I understand, if it is this important, I will be extra careful around it. Thank you for telling me sire.”

She blinked twice before following the corridor to the kitchen.

“Very well, my prince. I do hope that the fallen angel will find her way home today.”

‘Would have happened something with her?’ Arthur asked while turning away and going back to the stairs he had wanted to use before.

“Perhaps she would have never returned. Perhaps now she will.”

‘She would have died?’

“…”

‘Lady Helen.’

He knew it. Arthur had an ominous feeling and it had never betrayed him. Lady Helen didn’t mean anything good. He had to be careful around her.

At least today was her final day here in Camelot, her final performance.

Arthur clenched his fists fiercely and the cold shimmer in his eyes reached a new freezing point.

The knowledge that he couldn’t act without any clues wasn’t pleasant. He wanted to remove the danger.

Maybe the feast would give him a chance to do so.

But first he had to concentrate on something else since he was now near Morganas room.

Arthur just had to speak to his little sister.

If the blond remembered it right her nightmares where the first sign of her inherent magic. But as ignorant as he was and as stuck up his father liked to behave, they just dismissed it.

Now he – as a big brother – would act differently and care about her as good as he could.

Of course, Morgana wouldn’t speak to him if she herself had the hunch of having magic power. She was a confident young woman; she had learned from the same teachers Arthur had and knew how to protect herself. Nobody could easily break her walls. But the prince didn’t want to break them. It would be enough if he could support her from the side-lines.

Arthur sighed deeply before stopping in front of the door to his sister’s chambers. He put on a smiling face, to cheer himself up and then pushed the door a little more open.

“I mean, the man’s a total jest. And just because I am the kings ward doesn’t mean I have to accompany him to the feast.”

With his knuckle he knocked on the wooden door, then he cleared his throat and spoke, “Am I perhaps disturbing something here?”

After that the prince entered but what he saw there left him speechless.

Merlin stood frozen in front of the folding screen with a dress in his arms, ready to lay it onto the screen.

Their eyes met, shocked. The only one not realizing what was going on was Morgana. Instead she exclaimed, “Arthur you brat! You can’t be serious, right? Of course, you’re disturbing me. Can’t you see I am in the middle of getting dressed? Gwen, throw him out, instantly!”

‘Gwen?’ Arthur mouthed towards Merlin, who raised his shoulders slightly in despair and then answered with a high “Hmhmm.”

‘Is he pretending to be Gwen?’

Merlin came up to him and, as directed by Morgana, pushed him out of the room, not without putting on airs and flashing the prince an apologetic smile.

The wizard seemed to enjoy being able to push his king around like an old closet.

The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched before he quickly grabbed Merlin's neck and held it to turn the tables.

“Morgana, you mustn’t throw me out, I have to speak to you about something important.” The young man said a little strained since Merlin wasn’t staying still at all.

The black-haired boy tried to flee from Arthurs grip but that only lead to more pressure around his neck.

Arthur couldn’t let him go so easily, he had tried to sneak up on his sister, so he decided to change position.

Suddenly Merlin was being totally dominated by Arthurs headlock.

“Haha, Arthur you jest, don’t you? I think whatever it is can wait till I am ready putting on some clothes. Just come back later. I really don’t have time for your ‘important’ discussions. Gwen, please just lead that prat outside. My head is aching from his presence alone.”

Both men startled at those words and looked into the direction of the folding screen.

“Gwen?”

“I'm here.” Answered a slightly irritated female voice behind them.

They immediately turned their gaze towards the door and saw Guinevere standing there, looking at them with a face full of confusion.

Arthur put on an apologetic expression und gazed to Merlin who was still stuck in the headlock and also gazing at him with a fierce look.

‘Not good, not good at all.’ Arthur thought before Morganas voice rang out.

“Have you sent Arthur away now?”

Gwen pulled her brows together, shaking her head fast before silently mouthing, 'What are you even doing in here?' but then she ran around the strange picture of Merlin and Arthur. Her hands touched the backs of the two men and then began to shoo them out of her mistress’s room.

“Yes, Milady. Your brother is out of your chamber now.”

“Very good. Then please help me fastening this.” Merlin and Arthur heard before the solid wooden door was closed.

“What were you even doing there?” Arthur began. He repeated the question Gwen had posed and eventually let go of Merlin.

“Thank you for finally letting go of me, ass.” The black-haired man replied immediately while rubbing his neck.

It seemed as if Arthur had applied too much pressure. He shouldn’t have done that. Especially because of Gwen. Her impression of him was to slowly grow better, not worse. He had the urge to slap himself for that.

“Sorry, but it almost looked like you wanted to seize my sister. I was worried.” Arthur said plainly.

“What? How could you even think about that? I would never do anything to Lady Morgana!” Merlin defended himself. It was obvious that his opinion of Arthur sank by the minute. That was certainly not what the prince had aimed for. So, he tried to give the sorcerer room for an explanation.

“Then why were you sneaking around like that?”

“I brought her medicine. Gaius sent me and suddenly she disappeared behind the folding screen and started talking. I didn’t know, what I should do.”

Arthur could picture that and Merlin had spoken with honesty, as far as he could determine.

“So you pretended to be Gwen…?”

The blond cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest. They had started walking automatically and were now descending the curved stairs towards the courtyard.

“Yes, more or less… but that didn’t give you the right to strangle me like that!”

Merlin shook his head before rubbing at his neck again.

Arthur could only apologize to the boy who didn’t even respond anymore.

As they reached the courtyard Merlin simply said that he had to get some herbs for Gaius and then walked away with a sour expression. Still rubbing his neck from time to time.

‘I’ll ask Gaius to make him an ointment.’

Arthur sighed and went in the opposite direction.

His new destination were the training grounds. Since Arthur hadn't been able to talk to his sister now, he would postpone it to 'after training'. Then he would still have enough time.

‘Perhaps…’ Arthur thought in that moment and looked up into the sky. ‘Perhaps Merlin could help her explore her strength?’

It was an idea that came out of nowhere but could be used, if he found a way to implement it without taking advantage of their trust.

‘But I don’t want to burden him with another task… And I don’t know if Merlin is able to be a teacher.’

Though Gaius had once told Arthur that Merlin was the 'greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, but even the 'greatest' had to start small.

Arthur was no different. Many saw him as an heir to the throne from an early age. As the one who would become the next king, which was true.

But a good and wise king wasn’t magically born, he was brought up and he learned through experience.

How good was Merlin at using his magic at the moment?

Arthur raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms behind his back as he followed the bright and sandy way down to the training grounds.

No matter how much Merlin had mastered his sorcery, Arthur couldn't ignore Morgana again.

He would find a way and the first step was to look for a conversation.

* * *

The banquet hall was brightly lit. The warm flickering of the candles mingled with the hearty and excited voices of the people filling the hall.

The only one who wasn’t that excited at all was Arthur who stood in one corner of the room like a block of unmovable ice.

Some had tried talking to him but ended up receiving an annoyed gaze of their prince and a polite gesture to ‘piss off’.

Not even the fragrant smell of meat and oranges mixed with wine and pastries could move the prince’s facial features. Instead his eyes seemed empty, vacant as if he had done something unforgivable.

And that was certainly true, at least from his point of view.

Arthur hadn’t been able to talk to Morgana at all since the incident in the morning. Even though he had more or less given a promise. And that was why he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

He had finished his training and directly went to Morganas chambers, but she wasn’t there. Then he walked back to his room to change his clothes just to be literally thrown into a tub full of hot water for a needed bath.

After that his father had called for him to speak about the feast and asked him to take Morgana to it, what Arthur had really wanted to do but even that didn’t work out because he met Gaius.

The old court physician had apologized to him for the fight yesterday and showed gratitude because of Merlin’s jacket, that was delivered by Arthurs men.

At least the talk had given the prince the opportunity to ask Gaius for the ointment, so Merlin’s neck wouldn’t suffer too much throughout the following night.

Gaius had looked at him with incredulous eyes – as many did since yesterday – but finally nodded before going his way.

Now all Arthur could do was to wait for his sister in the banquet hall and apologize to her. After he had done that, he would deal with Lady Helen and maybe enjoy the feast a little bit.

Like yesterday in the cave, he leaned his head back and closed his eye lids. This allowed him to concentrate more on the noises in the room, on the laughter and the music playing in the background. The solemn atmosphere those sounds created reached him but could do nothing to solve his tense nerves.

Instead another noise tickled his ears. It was relatively soft, nearly non audible. He shouldn’t be able to distinguish it because of every other loud voice surrounding him. But nonetheless Arthur heard it clearly.

The young man opened one of his eyes and looked in the direction it had originated from.

At this point in time the sound stopped and Arthur realized that he had distinguished steps. Steps taken by a person he knew far too well.

‘Merlin?’ He thought to himself and opened his other eye. The boy no longer seemed to be constantly rubbing his neck, which relieved Arthur.

Just as the prince wanted to concentrate again, his former manservant turned to him.

Merlin eyed him, standing there in the corner all alone and cocked his head a little, almost questioningly, before turning towards the rear entrance of the banquet hall.

Only now did Arthur notice that it had become quieter, nearly silent. Solely the music was faintly being played and some subdued voices of awe could be heard.

The one who caught the eye of every person in the hall was none other than his little sister.

Morgana seemed to have chosen a jasper red dress that gave her figure something mystical through the delicate gold ornaments resembling bay leaves around her waist. Not to mention her jet-black hair that was pinned up in a messy braided bun and the small but fine rubies on her forehead.

She looked like a goddess emerging from the lap of mother autumn and now watching over this feast in all her elegance and glory.

Yes, his little innocent sister.

Arthur clenched his hand into a fist.

He would make sure that she didn't lose this innocence.

The prince moved quickly and bowed to her. He couldn't and didn't want to avoid his sisters pejorative look.

“I apologize, Morgana.” The young man began before lifting his head up slightly and looking into her cool face.

They both inherited those icy expressions from their father, it seemed.

“For what?” Morgana asked, then turned to another lady, greeting her while Arthur was being ignored.

The prince could only smile a bit reserved before giving an excuse to Morgana's new interlocutor and beginning to speak to his sister again.

“I apologize for not having kept my word.”

“What word?”, she asked him, without looking him in the eye.

“I never heard you giving me your word for anything. I just shooed you outside and you were gone, without ever returning. Nothing more, nothing less, right?”

Her gaze wandered for a second then she turned away from him and intended to go to another young woman.

“I may have not given you my word but I did say it was something important and that hasn’t changed…Morgana, please hear me out. I really am sorry… I will do anything to make up for it.”

Morgana raised both perfectly curved eyebrows, looked him up and down before coming closer. Her eyes narrowed as if she wanted to cut his face piece by piece and see what awaited her below his fair skin.

This chilling look got Arthur's neck hair to raise and he swallowed. At that moment the woman in front of him reminded him more of the Morgana that had tried to kill their father. But what his little sister then said was completely different to the words from his hazy memories.

“Who are you and what did you do to the self-centred prince that I am forced to look at every single day?”

Morgana left him speechless for a couple of seconds, then he had to laugh.

“I think,” Arthur started, then took a step back, since the proximity between them was a bit unfamiliar to him. “He's on the hunt right now or currently bullying a poor servant… Who knows?”

He shrugged as Morgana's eyes narrowed further. The right corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

“Extremely strange… Where did you pick up humour?” Then the princess touched her head, rubbed it lightly before continuing, “Incredible, no headache…”

She eyed him like a predator and Arthur allowed it until she retreated. Now the young man took his chance and offered to make up for his failure.

“Since I broke my word today, I would like to suggest that we catch up on our conversation tomorrow. Maybe with a ride and a little sword practice? I know you wanted to do that with me before and I think a little ride would do you good.”

Arthur wasn’t so sure of his words. Since his memories weren’t all there, he just guessed. The only thing he really remembered was that Morgana – as a little girl – would always want to practice with him and not alone. But his father had held her back till she reached 14 years of age. Then they began to practice together for a short while and she had seemed to enjoy it.

To Arthurs relive his little sister's eyes visibly widened.

“Are you serious?”

“Haha, yes of course. I will address Father directly after the banquet. If we take a few knights with us and a servant or two, he will certainly give his approval.”

Morgana seemed to think for a moment before returning to her cold expression, placing her hands in front of the golden leaves and answering as poised as possible.

“I hope you don't break your word a second time.”

“Never.”

A laugh of contempt sprang from her throat, but the joyous sparkle in her eyes told Arthur more than enough.

Now he felt better and the smile on his face was no longer forced. Even the food on the table was much more appealing to him now. He would be able to enjoy it.

'Now the last problem is Lady Helen.'

She was one of the bigger and more pressing issues Arthur still had to look into.

He slipped his hand under his red cloak and ran his fingers over the handle of the little dagger on his belt.

The prince didn't know if he would need it, but one could never be sure enough.

Just as his fingers released the weapon horns were blown and the king entered the filled hall.

The guests immediately arranged themselves along the long tables and welcomed their king. Arthur did the same and went to his seat at the king's right side.

It was unusual to be in the position of an observer again and not to be received as the one reigning over Camelot.

Still, Arthur didn't envy his father. After all, he had learned for years what it meant to be king. How much it burdened you, this position, especially when you had nobody at your side with whom you could share this burden.

With that in mind, the prince looked for his queen on the edge of the room, but Gwen was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, he noticed three other faces in a row.

First Merlin, who looked spellbound at the king. Then Arthur's current manservant, who, unlike Merlin, didn't seem to be very interested in the whole thing going on in front of his eyes. Last but not least the fallen angel – as the voice had called her.

The blonde woman looked very excited and moved her head more and more towards the king.

‘She lives.’ Arthur thought with relief and it seemed to him that he could also hear the voice in his head contently sighing.

„…But few can compare to the honour of introducing, Lady Helen of Mora.”

Now she was standing there on the little platform at the end of the grand room. Her golden dress surrounded her and the bluish sash fluttered slightly.

She gave a friendly nod to her audience, raised her arms a little as the music started to play in the background.

Arthur sat down in his seat, one hand close to the weapon, the other under his chin. Like Morgana, he narrowed his eyes and did not let his gaze wander.

He would watch everything this woman did very closely.

Then her voice rose.

She wasn’t called Camelots best singer for nothing.

The listeners were immediately enveloped in the soft sound of her singing.

Like a soft veil, the tones settled around everyone's ears and let one calm down after the initial excitement.

Lady Helen then slowly descended from the pedestal and walked elegantly towards the centre of the room… or maybe towards the king?

Arthur's gaze wandered from her to his father, who also supported himself with one hand and listened to the woman's impressive singing voice.

‘Does she plan to kill him?’ Arthur thought to himself and his hand now clasped around the dagger on his waist.

At that moment, her singing became louder, reached a higher octave, and suddenly Arthur felt an inexplicable tiredness.

“Her singing.”

Was being whispered into his ear. Through his tiredness, Arthur found it difficult to concentrate on these simple words, but he understood.

Under the influence of her singing, her magic – if he could rely on the slight tremor of his body – Arthur tried to move his free left hand and cover his ears, but his fingers only twitched.

His whole body was limp and the witches voice just got louder. At the same time the candles went out one by one and in the moonlight spider webs began to glitter.

The bright white threads spread, covering all guests, the louder Lady Helen sang.

Arthur could only swallow gently before his eye lids finally sank.

His consciousness was still there, hanging on one last thread and in danger of disappearing completely. He automatically moved his head in a certain direction.

'Merlin.'

The prince's eyes opened one last time before a pleasant warmth broke out and drove away the trembling of his body as well as the fatigue. Then Arthur heard only a deafening crack.

Confused, he looked back at the place where the singer had previously stood.

The tiredness that had been enveloping him had now evaporated, but Arthur's head didn't seem to be working properly just yet.

Everything still seemed very dreamlike, as if he was an uninvolved observer.

And his first action – as an uninvolved observer – was to remove the cobwebs, like all the other guests who were waking up now, because they too seemed to have fallen asleep.

Uther, meanwhile, was immediately on his feet again, had risen, while the silence was now being broken by astonished voices.

Arthur did the same thing as his father, though slightly dazed, and followed the older man’s gaze.

There, on the floor under a chandelier, lay an old, shrivelled woman instead of the beautiful singer.

The woman raised her head and stared straight into Arthur's eyes.

That look was enough. That look was what Arthur had been missing to grasp the memory.

In a flash, the events from that time shot through his head. His face turned pale.

'She wants to kill me.' He thought… Too late.

The narrow dagger was already flying, but calmness returned to the prince's heart.

'But I won't die.'

He was surrounded by the heat like a big wave. It clung to him quickly and excitedly, almost as if it alone wanted to protect him from the attack.

But it couldn’t be the one protecting him – not now at least. His life saver wasn’t the warmth, the magic that protected him, but the one who used it.

Less than a second later Arthur was lying on the stone floor with Merlin's hand clasping at his shoulder.

The dagger had bored into the back of his chair. Exactly where he had been just a second ago.

Arthur's breathing was irregular, as was that of Merlin, whom he now glanced at. He had actually wanted to express his thanks, but Merlin was already getting up.

The sorcerer didn't give him the opportunity to say thank you.

‘If it’s like that I will never be able to make up for the ungratefulness of my past life, Merlin.’ Arthur mentally reprimanded his former manservant before he also got up.

If everyone's attention had initially been on the dying attacker, it was now directed at Merlin, who reached back to his neck and touched it hesitantly.

Even the king himself came up to the boy and Arthur remembered what his father had said the first time.

“You saved my boy’s life. The debt must be repaid.”

“Ah, wow…” Merlin muttered, then lowered his eyes. The inconspicuous shaking of his head showed that Merlin was not at all happy to be rewarded.

Arthur stifled a laugh before speaking and therefore changing his memories.

“Father, I have a fitting idea.”

Uther's eyes slid to his son, who put his hand on Merlin's shoulder.

Arthur felt Merlin turn his head to him and stare at him intently. The thin shoulder wanted to flinch away from under his grip, but the prince didn't allow that.

“He should be awarded a position in the royal household.”

A warm smile spread across Arthur's face as Merlin's expression grew desperate.

“No, honestly, you don’t have to…” The sorcerer stammered seemingly lost. It resembled a plead, at least in Arthur's ears.

Again, it hurt him a little to see his former friend like that, but he was going to show Merlin that he changed and get a better reputation in the other's eyes.

“No, absolutely. You’ve managed something quite special.” Uther intervened “Go on, my boy, what did you have in mind?”

“Let him be my manservant.” Arthur answered his father. The latter in turn seemed surprised, but then put on a satisfied look. It wasn't a smile per se, but something similar.

“Like father, like son. I had the same reward in mind.”

The guests already began to clap and congratulated the new servant on his stand.

However, the one being congratulated looked as if he had been left standing in the rain.

The eyes of the two met again.

“Thank you.” Arthur said after a moment's hesitation.

Merlin's pupils grew larger, then his eyes moved in the other direction before he reached behind his neck and answered somewhat silently.

“Thank you too…”

Arthur looked questioningly at the black-haired man.

“Because of the ointment.”

The prince began to remember instantly and in turn shook his head and waved it off. After all, Merlin had needed the ointment because of Arthur. Therefore a ‘Thank you’ wasn’t needed.

“Arthur, can you escort your sister to her chambers? The sudden ‘interruption’ seems to have been too much for her.”

The blond man’s attention now shifted from Merlin to his little sister, who really looked like a corpse.

Arthur immediately agreed to his father and left Merlin behind.

Shortly before he turned to his sister he looked back at his father. Arthur had wanted to talk to him about tomorrow but he guessed that this wasn’t the right moment.

‘I’ll do it in the morning.’ He thought as he took Morganas hand in his own and lead her out of the grand hall.

After reaching Morganas chamber, he would call for Merlin and speak to him a little more, as they had in his past.

* * *

“What do you want…” Merlin took a deep breath before lifting his head and staring straight into Arthur's kind eyes. “milord.”

Arthur remembered the beginning of their short fight, but now he ignored this slightly provocative greeting.

Instead, he turned around and said, “Now that you are my personal servant, you should familiarize yourself with your work, right?”

The friendly smile still didn't leave Arthur's face as he stretched out his arms.

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked partly amused partly annoyed.

“Well, first take my cape off.”

The black-haired man, who was still standing in the entrance, grimaced before leaning forward slightly and saying with conviction, “I think you are quite capable of doing that on your own.”

Then Merlin nodded twice before leaning against the door frame and asked, “Is there anything else you need me for?”

Arthur nodded, then pulled the string that held his cloak and let the expensive fabric slide to the floor. Then he moved away from the red cloth and dropped onto the bed.

“Put that away and help me take off my shoes.”

“Haaaah, I can’t believe it.” The magician sighed, but shortly afterwards he began to move across the room, fished the cloak off the floor and put it neatly over the back of the chair behind Arthur's desk.

As Merlin wandered across the room, the prince straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Very well. This is a very small step, but at least a step forward.”

“Heh, if I am serving a fool, I have to start small.”

They had a quick exchange of looks before Merlin knelt before Arthur and hesitantly put his hands on the seated man's footwear.

The blond man looked down at the magician's dark head and supported himself with one hand.

His servant's fingers were still inexperienced, trying to use force to remove the shoe from his king's foot, but Arthur didn't blame him.

After all it was his first time in this life.

The corners of Arthur's mouth rose as he leaned back slightly and continued to look down at Merlin.

Now it didn't feel strange anymore. Now a piece of the puzzle had found its place and Arthur felt that it was a good thing.

That was the sight he had really missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me again ^^
> 
> I would instigate you to watch the first episode again, after reading this.
> 
> It's not necessary but it's really intresting to see the differences between their actions.
> 
> And you'll get a better feeling for both characters hehe.
> 
> Then I wish you all some good days this week.
> 
> I hope I'll be back with another chapter next week.
> 
> See u 👋
> 
> Ps: Jasper referes to a type of aggregrate of quartz for example. It's a mineral that is often used as a gem or ornaments on various surfaces.


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